


Do You Smile To Tempt a Lover

by allwaswell16



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accountant Nick, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And drinks a lot of cappuccinos, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, British Museum, Clerk Louis, Hand Jobs, I'll stop now sorry, Kissing, Light Angst, Light Bondage, London, Louis likes roast beef sandwiches, M/M, Masturbation, Museums, Mutual Pining, Nick eats a lot of salads, Non-Famous Louis, Non-Famous Nick, POV Nick, Pining, Riding, Smut, Some of the smut tags are related to fantasies or are in Louis' writing, Writer Louis, is it too late for that tag now? lol, sex fantasies, sorry i'm back someone told me to add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Nick Grimshaw is entranced by Louis, his very beautiful, very cheeky new coworker at The National Portrait Gallery. He watches him day after day, wondering what he’s furiously typing on his laptop over lunch. With a little help from the very bored barista in the gallery cafe, Nick finds himself growing closer to Louis than he ever dreamed possible.





	Do You Smile To Tempt a Lover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Octoberrose11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octoberrose11/gifts).



> Octoberrose11, I took your prompt and just kind of ran with it, so I hope it's still something you can enjoy. <3
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, [taggiecb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb), for all the handholding and my Brit picker, [giveitupforliam](https://giveitupforliam.tumblr.com/), for being so lovely and being my research assistant and catching my mistakes. 
> 
> This fic takes place mainly in The National Portrait Gallery in London, which I have been to exactly one time. BUT my Brit picker went and did reconnaissance there for me because she's the best. lol. Anyway, the title comes from the song 'Mona Lisa' by Nat King Cole because...portrait gallery...Mona Lisa...get it?! I know...very clever of me.
> 
> This fic was written for the Tomlinshaw Fic Exchange 2017. You can find the other fics in the collection [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tomlinshaw_2017_Fic_Exchange/works)

Nick silently pleads with the universe that it will not be raining. Of course, he’s forgotten his umbrella. He’s done his hair properly with a lovely quiff that will flop right over if it’s begun raining. He sighs as he walks out of the station into the rain and onto Charing Cross. He hunches his shoulders to keep the cold September drizzle from slipping beneath his trench coat as he heads down the damp London streets towards work and only briefly considers the archives entrance to the gallery. There’s a very specific reason why Nick no longer uses that entrance on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.

No one has noticed this change in routine, but he has an excuse ready just in case. It truly is much more aesthetically pleasing to come from the front entry on St. Martin and walk through the stone archway, down the hall of black and white David Gwinnutt photographs and past the portraits of Maggie Smith and Judi Dench and through the gallery until he reaches the administration offices.

Of course, that’s not the real reason he does this. It most definitely is not the reason he’s willing to trudge a bit further through the rain to go through the main entrance. There’s a different aesthetically pleasing reason for this, and he recently began work as the front of house receptionist.

When he walks in through the main entrance of The National Portrait Gallery, he slows his gait as he passes by the long desk to his right, his eyes looking for the man who works there. He sees him there in front of the desk picking up a small plastic display that had apparently toppled off the desk. He’s never seen him out from behind the desk before.

He’s in profile, and Nick feels grateful for the chance just to look at him like this. The dark fall of hair over his face begs Nick’s fingers to brush it back over his ear, the sharp angles of his cheekbones ask for the touch of his lips, the delicate wrists reaching out implore a larger hand to wrap around them, and the curves of his body beneath his fitted navy suit plead for his caress as he bends down to gather the display.

When the man stands up, it snaps Nick back into reality, the one where he’s currently ogling the clerk. He clears his throat as if to also clear his mind of the inappropriate ways he wants to touch the beautiful man behind the desk.

Unfortunately, his throat clearing alerts the man of his presence as he tries to walk by.

“What? No hello? Not very polite, mate. Just because it’s free to enter doesn’t mean people can’t say hello.”

Nick feels the flush of blood enter his cheeks. “Oh. Hello I--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, too late now.” The words belie the cheeky way the clerk says them with a sideways smile of faux outrage.

It throws Nick’s composure right into the Thames.

“I work here, so--”

“Well, even more reason to be polite to your coworkers. Off you go then. Busy over here waiting for people to ask me how much the entry fee costs.”

“But it’s free,” Nick says dumbly.

Louis offers him a patronising smile. “I know, mate.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. Bye.”

He walks faster now, letting his long legs stride quickly away from the beautiful man and through the gallery, listening to the clack of his Chelsea boots on the polished floors and nodding his hello to Judi and Maggie as they look out at him from their picture frames.

He leaves the door open to his small office in case anyone is up for a chat. When he hangs up his damp trench coat, he realises what a state his hair must be in. With a sigh, he heads back out of his office to survey the damage. A look in the mirror of the loo confirms the sad state of his quiff. He pats it dry as best he can with a paper towel and attempts to restyle it a bit with his fingers before giving up. He stares at himself in the mirror, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. He smiles sheepishly at his reflection in the mirror.

Arriving later than he used to three days out of five has caused some rearrangement of his schedule. His work is steady and holds little surprises at this point, so it’s been quite an easy reshuffling of his time. He comes in a bit earlier on Wednesdays and Fridays and makes up his time, which he finds he quite likes. He again has a reason ready about life balance and such should anyone question him about it, but no one does.

Honestly, it’s a little disheartening that he seems to be going so unnoticed. Not even Fiona has said a word about it, and she’s the assistant accountant to his head accountant. Surely, _she_ has noticed, but no, no one has breathed a word on the subject.

Matty and George ask him to lunch, but seeing as how he’s forgotten his umbrella, he doesn’t want to be caught out in the rain again. He’ll just eat in the gallery cafe. It’s nice if a bit cramped. They have decent food and an employee discount though, so it’s worth it. On a sunny day it’s quite nice with the large windowed skylight that makes up the ceiling of it, although it’s sure to be a bit dreary today.

He eyes the cakes longingly but manages to hold onto his self-control and buys an herb quinoa salad. He decides to splurge on a cappuccino from the shockingly handsome barista. “Zayn” is what his name tag declares his name to be. He admits it fits him even if he’s not sure he believes it’s his real name. Zayn is wearing an awful tan t-shirt and still manages to look like he’s just stepped in from a photo shoot.

It’s a bit intimidating if he’s being honest to even speak with Zayn.

“Um, hello?” His voice comes out scratchy, so he clears it a bit and wonders if he’s coming down with something. “I’d like a cappuccino?”

“Would you now?” A voice says behind him.

Nick whips around to see the front desk clerk standing there with a hint of a smirk across his pretty face. He’s so caught off guard that he really doesn’t know what to say. Just looking at this man makes him stupid.

“Well--yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

Nick frantically tries to think of a way to somehow order this god forsaken cappuccino and end this awkwardness. He turns back to the barista. “I would like to order a cappuccino, please.”

“Ah, very polite.” Zayn offers a smile, and Nick tries to return it though he isn’t sure he succeeds.

He stands at the counter as Zayn saunters over to the espresso machine. He’s fairly vibrating with nerves as the front desk clerk stands silently behind him. He wills himself to say something, anything, but he can’t manage it.

He very nearly chokes on his tongue when Zayn returns to tell him it will just be a minute, and he finally turns around to find the clerk quite close to him. He quickly shuffles to the side so that Zayn can ring up the cake the pretty clerk is buying. He’s much easier to admire without distance between them. He looks a bit younger than Nick initially thought. His vivid blue eyes, framed by insanely long lashes, pin him in place. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the man breaks their eye contact and takes his cake to an empty table.

He’s so enthralled with just watching the man set up a laptop and begin typing away madly that he doesn’t realise Zayn has finished making his cappuccino. He’s not sure how many times the barista has tried to draw his attention, but he finally says, “It’s not polite to stare.”

“What?” Nick says wide-eyed as he whirls around to face Zayn. “No--I wasn’t--I just was--”

“Staring. At that boy. He is quite pretty, I’ll admit.”

They both look back at the man still typing away obliviously.

“Yeah. He is,” Nick admits with a sigh.

He feels a bit silly he’s been caught staring so long, but it’s not like the man is paying any mind to anything going on around him. He’s still typing furiously, his brow furrowed, as though he’s pouring himself onto the virtual page.

“You should go talk to him.”

“What? No! No, no, no. I couldn’t--I--”

“Well, he comes in every day around this time for lunch. Always has tea, sometimes cake, sometimes a roast beef sandwich. I assume he works here. Are you just visiting or do you work here, too?”

“Yes. I work here as well. I’m in accounting.”

“Hi. I’m Zayn.” He reaches out a hand covered in what appears to be a henna designed tattoo.

Nick takes it in a friendly shake. “Hiya. I’m Nick.”

“Well, Nick please enjoy drinking your cappuccino.

“Thanks.”

He turns to find a table where he’s still close enough to see his clerk and yet still far enough away to be unobtrusive. He looks back and sees Zayn watching him with a grin. He knows what he’s doing. Well, there’s no use pretending otherwise now.

He spends the rest of his lunch blissfully sipping his cappuccino and pretending he’s in a sunny outdoor cafe watching a beautiful boy type a masterpiece.

///

Nick steels himself to walk into the gallery on Tuesday, ready with a friendly greeting for the desk clerk. Unfortunately, whatever witty thing he had planned dies immediately in his throat at the sight of the clerk with his hair done up and off his face. Nick has been fairly certain up until today that the man’s fringe of hair falling across his face was one of his favourite things about him. Clearly this is not the case because Nick is gobsmacked by the sight of him with his hair in a swirl at the front.

He doesn’t realise he’s stopped to stare until he hears the man’s voice again. “I’m not going to beg you to say hello again.”

Nick tries to make himself say something, but his tongue feels at least three times larger than it did a few minutes ago. “I--”

“Nope. Too late again. It doesn’t count if I have to prompt you.”

“Well, hello anyway. I don’t mean to not say hello, and I was most definitely going to say hello today.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t have the chance to!” Nick protests.

“You stood there for like a full minute, mate.”

“Surely not an entire minute!” Nick insists. “Maybe like twenty seconds or something.”

“Well, next time I’ll time you then.”

“What? No, I--”

“Be on your way then. I have work to do.”

“The gallery’s not even open though.” Nick points out.

“I have plenty of duties, I’ll have you know.” The clerk says with a huff, his eyes sparkling with a dare to contradict him. “I need to straighten up all these displays.”

Nick looks down at the perfectly placed displays. He looks back at this beautiful, enigmatic creature and has no idea what to say.

“Have a good day?”

“See you around, colleague.”

Nick quickly makes his getaway, wondering what just happened.

When his lunch break approaches, he wrestles with himself about what to do. Should he go back to the cafe and see if the clerk is there? Is that too ridiculous? He waits to see if fate will intervene. If Fifi or any of the others ask him to lunch, he won’t go down to the cafe. He waits on tenterhooks as Fifi makes her way past his door.

But then, he hears a backtrack of steps, and she peeks her head in his door. “Staying in?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“Okay, see you in a bit. Don’t work too hard!”

“Right. Okay. Tell George and Matty I’m busy if they ask.”

She gives him an odd look, and when she leaves, he rests his head on his desk. So much for fate.

Zayn’s smirks as he makes his way through to the counter and slides a cappuccino across the surface. “I knew you’d be back.”

“What? How?”

“I could tell by the way you looked when I mentioned how often he eats here.” Nick sighs at the look on Zayn’s face.

He hasn’t dared to even look around the cafe yet. “Is he here yet?”

“Yes, and I think you should talk to him.”

Nick glances back to see there are a few open tables close to the man. He turns back to Zayn and swallows hard, wondering if he should.  “Um, no. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, he sort of catches me not saying hello every day when I come into the gallery.”

“Why don’t you say hello?” Zayn asks.

“I have no idea. I get a bit nervous and then muck it all up.”

“Well, at least sit closer to him this time. You’ll have a chance he’ll notice and talk to you then. Always works for me.” Zayn shrugs.

“Of course it does for _you_ ,” Nick huffs. “We don’t all look like models come straight off the runway, _Zayn_.”

Zayn lets out a loud trill of laughter that surprises them both. “Thanks for the compliment, mate.”

Nick snorts and takes his cappuccino, ready to sit slightly closer this time, but as he turns, his eyes meet a pair of startlingly bright blue ones. He nearly trips over his own feet and feels compelled to sit at the nearest table to keep himself from spilling his cappuccino all over himself. He’s also now sitting much closer to the man than he ever dared dream he would today.

Oh dear god.

The man is smiling at him.

The heavens have opened and allowed him a glimpse of pure beauty. Angels are singing a divine song at the slight crinkle of the man’s eyes. His cheekbones sharpen in a celestial delight. Nick’s fairly certain he’s stopped breathing.

As dissonant as a record scratch, Zayn plops into the chair next to Nick, breaking the spell. He stares at Zayn in wonderment.

“What? I can’t take a break?”

“I--yes--but--”

“Actually, I just came to tell you something.” Zayn lowers his voice dramatically. “His name is Louis. He used a card to pay today. Thought you might want to know.”

Nick’s mouth hangs open. Honestly, this is all too much to handle. He blinks a few times before his eyes dart back to the front desk clerk--Louis, apparently he’s called. Louis is looking back and forth between he and Zayn now, a slight crease between his eyebrows.

“Okay, well, thanks then. You should probably get back to work.” Nick says quickly, imploring Zayn to read between the lines.

“Nah, we’re not busy today. No one at the counter.”

“Zayn.” Nick hisses under his breath. “ _He’s_ watching us. Please leave.”

“Well, that’s a bit rude. Are you afraid he’ll think we’re together then? Are you so ashamed of me, Nicholas?”

“Shove off.  Maybe I’d rather he not be comparing the two of us.”

“Scared you don’t measure up then?” Zayn asks with a smirk.

“Obviously! Now, get the fuck out of here.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t worry though. He’s back to his typing.”

Zayn’s right. Louis’ fingers fly across the keys, his eyes fixed on the screen. Nick watches him surreptitiously as he finishes his lunch.

///

Wednesday dawns, cloudy and damp. Nick trudges through the wet London streets and even though he’s remembered his umbrella today, it hardly matters. He’ll just use the archives entrance as he knows his favorite employee doesn’t work Wednesdays.

He hasn’t bothered to style his hair particularly well today either. No one to impress really. He has a brief uncomfortable moment when he realises that he _is_ trying to impress Louis rather than just admire him from afar as he’d thought he would continue to do.

He and Fifi brave the rain to get a curry for lunch, and Nick’s world is made gloomier with no Louis to brighten it with his smile.

///

Nick hums the latest Justin Bieber song as he walks out of Leicester Square and towards the museum. The sun shines so brightly he’s actually wearing sunnies today and his mood seems to be greatly improved along with the weather. Well, that and it’s a Louis day.

He gets a brief glimpse of him as he heads into the building. He doesn’t get to say hello because Louis is talking to what looks like his manager, but he’s still feeling pretty great until he reaches for his cappuccino at the cafe counter and Zayn slides it back away from him.

“Are you ever going to talk to him?”

“What? Why? I mean--no. Probably not.”

“So you’re just going to keep following him around and staring? Bit creepy, really.”

Nick’s heart sinks. It really is a bit creepy. “Fuck. I just--I like admiring him from afar. He’s very beautiful, but yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Mate, I’m just saying I’ve noticed that you didn’t come in here yesterday and neither did he. I’m guessing you knew he’s wasn’t coming.”

Well. It really does sound bad when Zayn says it out loud. Really bad.

“Oh god. What am I doing?” He slumps forward with his hands pressed to the counter. “Could you pour that it in a paper cup, Zayn?”

“Why?”

“Why? _Why?_ Because I’m going to go drown myself in that cappuccino in my office where I’m going to sit by myself and stop this clearly unhealthy fascination.”

“Or you could go talk to him,” Zayn says as he pours the cappuccino into a different cup.

“But--”

Zayn slides the new cup to him across the counter. “It’s not creepy if you actually speak to the man and have a conversation. Then, it’s sort of normal, and you can wave hello and maybe have lunch together instead of ten feet away from each other.”

“No, no, no. What would I even say? Hello, I have trouble speaking when you’re around because you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, just thought you should know? Psshhhh-” Nick nearly drops his cup to the floor as he turns to see Louis standing directly behind him.

Louis’ lovely tenor voice says, “Woah. I can come back if you’re not done. Just needed another tea.”

Nick can hear the laughter in Zayn’s voice even without looking at him. “I’ll go get that for you.”

Nick faces Louis, stricken. “Oh! Um, no. I’m not--I wasn’t saying that--I didn’t mean him!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure he gets that all the time, honestly.”

Nick nods his agreement. “He probably does, but I still wasn’t saying that to him. He was just giving me advice.”

“Ah, advice on how to talk to men? Could use some of that myself if I’m honest. Doesn’t sound like you need any though. That was quite direct.”

Nick huffs out a laugh. “Um, no. I’m not very direct with things like that. Like I said, I really wasn’t saying that about him, although I’m sure everyone can agree Zayn’s quite strikingly handsome. He really was just giving me advice that I was not going to take and was going to go hide in my office instead.”

Louis smiles that same lovely, breathtaking smile he aimed Nick’s way the other day. Nick tries his best to keep upright. “Well, you’ve managed to speak with the barista whom we both agree is quite good looking. Seems like the two of you have struck up a friendship then?”

“I guess we have.” Nick looks back at Zayn who has just arrived back at the counter with Louis’ tea and smirking.

“So you work here, yeah?” Louis asks.

“Um, yes. Accounting.”

“You dress a bit posh, thought maybe you worked with the art or summat.”

Nick isn’t sure how to respond. Louis notices the way he dresses? This seems unfathomable somehow.

“Would you like to join me for lunch?” Louis asks. “I don’t really know anyone here too well. Just if you want--”

“Yes! I would! Yes! I would want.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d want to since you can’t ever manage a hello.” Louis clicks his tongue and sends him another dazzling smile as he leads them both over to his table.

Nick stops himself from looking back at Zayn who is sure to be looking smug at the moment. “That’s hardly fair! You never really give me a chance to.”

“Yeah, yeah, no sulking. I let you walk by for weeks before I demanded a hello.”

“Oh. I didn’t--I guess I thought you didn’t notice me walking by.”

“A bit hard to miss,” Louis says with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine, mate. I’m just winding you up a bit.”

They settle in at the very small table, and Louis moves his laptop onto an empty chair to make room for Nick’s food. He crinkles up his nose so cutely at the sight of it.

“What is that you’re eating then?”

“Oh, this? It’s a quinoa salad. It’s quite good actually.”

“What’s in it?” Louis continues to look at it in disgust.

“Well, quinoa, obviously. And also carrots, cauliflower, pine nuts, and raisins.”

“I see no raisins in that.”

Nick points to the small shriveled fruit dotting the salad in shades of yellow.

“Those aren’t raisins, mate. Raisins are like a dark purple brown colour.”

Nick can hardly hold back a grin. “These are golden raisins.”

“Are you fucking with me? There are posh yellow raisins, now?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Do they taste any different or are they as disgusting as real raisins?”

“Well, I think they taste quite good in my salad, but--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I either have the soup or a roast beef sandwich, myself.” Louis shifts in his seat a bit and makes room on the table for his laptop. “Would you mind watching my things whilst I go to the loo?”

“Of course not.” Nick nods as Louis pushes his chair back from the table.

“Thanks, mate. Be right back.”

Nick admires the view as Louis saunters away towards the loo. He glances over at Zayn and finds him watching. Zayn wiggles his fingertips in a sarcastic wave. How he’s managed to give him a wave that looks sarcastic, Nick isn’t sure.

Louis returns, and they finish their lunches with light, pleasant commentaries between bites of quinoa and roast beef. Nick reluctantly leaves only when he absolutely must get back to work. He hopes that Louis won’t have forgotten him completely by Monday.

As he heads home to his flat after work, he relives each moment with Louis in his mind, and it pains him a bit to know that the soonest he’ll see him will be three days from now.

///

Nick takes a final look in the mirror before he leaves Monday morning. He’s woken early and carefully chosen his clothes and spent many extra minutes styling his hair. He’s playing to his strengths. He’s got great hair, and he’s chosen narrow fitted trousers to show off his long legs. He’s got his favourite pair of boots on. It’s all he can do really. Now that he knows Louis notices his clothes, he’s got to put in a little extra effort. He lets out a long breath and heads out.

His earbuds blast Britney to drown out the noise of the train, and when he strides past the white tiled walls of the tube station letting them blur together into long streaks, he tries to quiet the self-doubting monologue in his head. It doesn’t work.

By the time he reaches the gallery, he forces himself to use the archives entrance and not walk past the front desk . It’s nearly painful to do this, but Zayn’s pointed talk with him about creepiness definitely resonates.

He hardly accomplishes a thing all morning. Since he didn’t walk past the desk, he doesn’t even know if Louis is working today. Mind you, he’s worked every Monday for weeks now, but what if he’s poorly and hasn’t come to work today? He takes the stairs as he heads down to the cafe, hoping to burn off some of his nerves. It doesn’t work. If anything, the jump in his heart rate makes everything worse.

He peeks around the corner and feels both a wash of relief that there Louis sits tapping away at his laptop as usual and also a bit of dread that he doesn’t have any idea of what to do. He stands there skulking until he sees he’s been spotted by Zayn. He quickly grabs the first thing he sees out and walks up to the counter as if he hadn’t just been caught spying.

“A tart? Really? Have you ever bought one here before?” Zayn apparently can’t help himself as he slides Nick’s cappuccino towards him.

“Um, yep. I just felt like trying this, erm, artichoke and olive tart.”

“I hope the tomato and cheese drown out the artichoke and olives for you, mate.” Zayn says with a shake of his head.

“You know, you seem a little overly invested in my lunch, Zayn.”

“Don’t I know it. Can’t help it really. It’s a bit boring here. Watching you fumble all over Louis is about the best entertainment I’ve had in months.”

Nick shoots him a tight lipped smile before he realises he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Louis seems to not have noticed him walk in, still typing away madly. Should he sit nearby? Sit far away and pretend they’ve never spoken? Should he walk up and ask to join him?

He takes two hesitant steps towards Louis, when Louis happens to look up and finds Nick staring back.

“Hiya.” Nick’s mouth’s gone dry, but he manages to spit out a word.

“Hello, you actually managed to say a greeting of some sort without my prompting!” Louis replies and scoots this things to the side to make room on the table. Okay, so clearly that’s an invitation.

“Mind if I join you then?” Nick still feels the need to ask.

“Please.” Louis waves his hand dismissively. “So how was your weekend?”

Nick takes a relieved breath and frantically tries to think of something exciting he’d done this weekend, but honestly he’s got no idea what Louis would find fun. “Well, went round my friend Tom’s place with a few friends. Just watched a few movies and drank a little too much wine. Went shopping for a bit on Saturday with my flatmate. A bit boring, I suppose.”

“No, no. Not boring at all really. It’s nice you have a group of friends. Definitely not as boring as my weekend.”

“Why do you say that?” Honestly, that seems impossible as Nick would find just watching Louis walk around endlessly fascinating.

“I wrote all weekend.” Louis shrugs. “Well, my friend got me out for a bit yesterday to play footie in the park, but that’s really all I did.”

Nick has spent many hours pondering what it is Louis is writing, so he takes this opening. “What is it that you write anyway?”

Louis’ cheeks fill with colour. “Yeah, a lot of different things, really. One of them is a mystery novel. I worked on that quite a bit this weekend. Sort of a historical mystery set in Yorkshire. That’s where I’m from, so--”

Nick has possibly never been so intrigued in his life. Why would Louis be sweating over writing a mystery novel? “What else do you write?”

Louis chokes seemingly on air. “Um, just little--nothings--if I get a bit bored or stressed with what I’m writing, I just write a little drabble of something.”

Nick murmurs his acknowledgement, but he’s still very interested in why Louis’ face is suddenly so pink and why he’s reacting so nervously.

Louis stands up abruptly. “Would you mind watching my things again? It’s hard to keep everything with me and use the loo at the same time.”

“Sure,” Nick replies.

As soon as Louis stands up from the table, the open laptop beckons to him. Why hadn’t Louis shut it? He lasts about thirty seconds before his curiosity gets the best of him. He knows he won’t have much time to even look at it, but he moves it ever so slightly so that he can make out the words on the screen.

 

 

 

 

 

> _Mick props himself up on his elbows to watch Logan take him in his mouth. The sight of him, his hair in his face, his eyes glazed with passion is nearly enough to make Mick come on the spot. He throws his head back as he revels in the feel of his dick enveloped in the heat of Logan’s mouth. Logan’s fingers press hard into his thighs as he takes Mick further and further into his mouth. He lifts his head back up to watch. Logan peers back under eyelashes wet with tears, nearly choking on Mick, and that’s what sends him over the edge and shooting down Logan’s throat. Logan sits up and wipes his arm across his mouth, a satisfied smile crossing his face._

Nick can only imagine what his face must look like in this moment.

Louis is writing sex. Very explicit sex. Porn, really. Louis is writing porn.

Louis is writing porn and was just now in fact typing those words just as Nick walked up. He sits back in his chair, stunned. He knows he has precious little time to get himself under control before Louis comes back from the loo. God, he’s not sure he can fake it.

As soon as he sees Louis returning, he quickly takes a much too large bite of his tart and begins chewing. He’s nearly choking on olives and artichokes by the time Louis sits down, looking at him strangely as Nick tries to take a sip of his cappuccino to help with the chewing process. Unfortunately, thinking about choking on the tart has led his mind to think about Logan choking on Mick’s dick, which causes Nick to splutter whilst trying to take that sip. He has to wipe his chin with a napkin and feels like a complete tosser.

He does manage to pull himself together after that, but he’s unable to concentrate on much else for the rest of the day, and when he walks through the door to his flat that evening, he heads straight into a shower where he wanks frantically to the mental image of Louis on his knees for him.

///

Tuesday barrages him from both sides.

Louis actually glances up from his laptop a few times once Nick enters the cafe and tries to decide on a lunch as though he may be waiting for him. He gets a cappuccino and a knowing look from Zayn before he takes a breath and turns to Louis who seems to be waiting expectantly for him. His side of the table is already cleared, and Louis is wearing a lovely smile.

Nick tries to tell himself that this is just a workplace friendship that they’ve struck up, but he’s having a hard time focusing on that when he knows what’s on Louis’ laptop screen. And yet, he does forget for a while. Louis mentions a sister, which leads Nick to ask a few questions about his family, and then, suddenly Louis is telling him stories about going home for Christmas and finding utter chaos as he opens the door. The tree laying on its side, his step-father with a twin in each arm as a toy train whizzes on its track between his legs, his mother hollering from the kitchen that she’s burnt the roast turkey.

He mentions a birthday amidst the story, and Nick tucks the information away in his mind to further think on Louis’ Christmas Eve birthday. Louis asks after Nick’s family and laughs at Nick’s jokes. Nick searches his mind for anything remotely funny to say to have another chance at seeing Louis throw his head back to laugh, his eyes reduced to slits of blue and his hand pressed to his chest. It’s a glorious sight.

The world has narrowed into this small table tucked away in a skylit underground cafe. When Louis stands, it’s only then that the rest of the world rushes back into place. Nick straightens up in his chair realising he must have been leaning further and further forward into the depths of Louis’ conversation.

He can’t help but watch Louis walk away. He defies anyone to say they wouldn’t do the same. The glorious curves of his body sway as he makes his way through to the back of the cafe. The way Louis fills out a pair of trousers is a gift to the world. He sighs to himself and leans back against the chair.

The laptop is open.

Fuck. He knows himself. He knows he doesn’t possess the self-control necessary not to sneak a peek. He looks around to make sure no one is looking, Zayn busy elsewhere in the back apparently. He doesn’t bother to be subtle as he quickly turns the laptop towards him and hits the shift key to bring the laptop off sleep mode.

The screen comes to life, and Nick’s eyes frantically reads the last few paragraphs of words.

 

 

> _Bright sunlight streams through the glass showing every detail of the nude man sprawled back across it. Logan’s tan skin on decadent display, his tattoos stark against his skin, tendrils of hair dark and wet against the pillows as he fingers himself open. He’s moaning Mick’s name obscenely, and Mick wonders if he’s hallucinating all this._
> 
> _This can’t possibly be real. He can’t possibly be real. Mick’s cock is already hardening in anticipation. Logan’s eyelids drift open as the smuggest smile imaginable crosses his face. God, he knows what he’s doing to Mick. Mick whimpers as he stumbles across the room and lands at Logan’s feet. The clean smell of Logan’s body fresh from a shower doesn’t match the filthy way he’s scissoring his fingers inside himself. Mick sits frozen, eyes open wide, at the incredible sight before him._

Nick can feel his body begin to react to the words on the screen. He hasn’t thought this through. There’s no reason for Louis’ laptop screen to be on. He pushes it away from him and hopes that Louis doesn’t notice. He tries to take a few deep calming breaths and wills his dick to behave. He tries his best to keep his face neutral when Louis returns. He must not succeed because Louis asks if he’s feeling okay.

“Yep. Should probably get back to work though,” he says as he stands, wobbly kneed.

“Okay, see you Thursday,” Louis says with a smile and snaps his laptop shut.

Nick concentrates on calmly returning to his office. He says hello to Matty and George. Fifi must still be out to lunch. And then he softly shuts his office door and locks it. As soon as the lock clicks, he collapses into his chair and does something he has never ever done in his office before.

He pictures the scene Louis painted with his words. Louis nude, spread before him on soft, white pillows and still wet from a shower. He can almost smell him, the image is so vivid in his mind. He pictures Louis’ delicate fingers that he’s only ever seen him use to type away on a laptop instead using them to plunge in and out of himself.

He can almost hear Louis’ reedy voice tell him to sit next to him. Nick closes his eyes to better picture himself beside Louis as his fantasy plays out. Louis unfastening his trousers for him and taking out his hard cock. Nick does just this, imagining smaller fingers than his own long ones gripping him. He lets himself imagine Louis climbing onto his lap, straddling him as he eases himself onto Nick’s cock. A small amount of precome is enough for Nick to slide his fingers around himself as he pictures Louis’ arse bouncing up and down on it. He whispers words of pleasure that he wishes he could say to Louis as he strains up into his own fist. It’s when he again imagines Louis telling him to kiss him and touch him and fuck him harder that he comes into his hand, panting.

Fuck. This is by the far the dirtiest thing Nick’s ever done at work, and holy fuck did he enjoy it. He fears this may become a problem.

“Nick, what are you up to then?”

He jolts forward at the sound of Fiona at his door.

“Uhh--just finishing up some grant information, just a moment,” he calls out hoarsely.

He quickly cleans himself up and prays that nothing will give him away. He unlocks the door but doesn’t open it, hoping to buy himself a few extra minutes. He’s thankful that she must be busy because she doesn’t return. He lays his head on his desk and thinks about how wrong Zayn was. Talking to Louis has definitely not made anything better.

///

Nick spends most of Wednesday in a fog of anticipation. He forces himself to go to lunch with Matty and George lest they begin to suspect something, but he’s so keyed up just thinking about tomorrow.

Will Louis be in the cafe? What will his hair look like? Will they sit together again? Will Nick be able to peek at his writing? The questions run in a loop through his mind as he tries to finish auditing budgets and eating lunch and walking home from the tube station.

He doesn’t even feel his feet hitting the pavement, he’s so preoccupied by his thoughts. He opens the door to his flat and is surprised to see Daisy rummaging through the cupboards in their tiny kitchen.

“I didn’t even realise you were coming home today,” he says as his words cause her to jump a bit in surprise.

“Ahh! You’re home!” Daisy claps him into a tight hug before she’s back to setting out food on the counter. “Thought I’d make us a salad. Looks like you’ve been to the shops and got us lots of healthy options.”

“Mmhmm.” He murmurs as she tosses the salad together. “How was Paris?”

“Paris was Paris. Very busy, so not much time for fun. So what’s his name then?” She asks as she takes two large plates from the cupboard.

“Whose name?” He asks absentmindedly as he opens a drawer to pull out forks.

“Whoever you’ve been shagging of course.”

He drops the forks to the floor. “What? I’m not--it’s not--I haven’t-”

“Nick, the last time you bought healthy food was when you were fuck--”

“Stop!” Nick shouts out. “I am not shagging anyone!”

Daisy eyes him suspiciously. Damn if she can’t read him like a book though. “You’re thinking about shagging someone.”

He stays mute as she walks around him in a circle.

“What did you eat for lunch today?”

He clears his throat. Fuck. “Salmon.”

“And?” Daisy waggles her eyebrows.

“Vegetables.” He admits with a sigh.

“Your hair is styled. And you’re wearing clothes I’ve brought you home from photo shoots.”

“That proves nothing.”

“It proves you’re trying to catch someone’s attention. Yes, yes. Someone in particular. I can see it in your eyes.”

“The clothes I’m wearing and my hair signal nothing. He wasn’t even there today!”

“Aha!” She laughs. “Who is he?”

Nick throws himself dramatically into the nearest chair and slumps across their small table. “Fine. You’ve caught me. His name is Louis. And we’re only shagging in my dreams.”

“Oh, darling. Please tell me this isn’t another one of your hopeless crushes that you’ll do nothing about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” His voice is muffled by the arm he’s now smushed his face into. “He’s very beautiful. The most beautiful. Sometimes, he does his hair into a little swirl in front and I didn’t know hair could be so attractive, but his is. Also, his ears are perfectly proportioned. Like if ears can be perfect, his are actually perfect. And oh my god, I sound completely mad.” He looks at Daisy, stricken. “I can’t believe I said these things out loud.”

She slides into the chair across from him, eyes wide. “Wow. I--can’t say I’ve ever seen you like this. You’ve got it bad for this one.”

“His voice. God, the way he says my name--” Nick’s words choke up in his throat at the thought. This is so embarrassing.

“He’s said your name? So you actually talk to him? That’s not so bad then!” He doesn’t look up from beneath his arm, but he can hear the slight encouragement in her tone. “He’s not straight is he?”

He barks out a laugh at the way she asks. “No. He isn’t straight. He sort of said in passing that he needed advice on talking to men, so--”

“Oh really? Hmmmm. Well, the salad is ready. Let’s eat healthy food and talk about this.”

///

Nick arrives at the gallery on Thursday in a Daisy-approved ensemble and Daisy-styled hair. He boldly strides through the front doors of the gallery, ready to say his pre-approved greeting. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words die on his lips.

Louis stands in front of the desk, leaning one hand against it, the other propped up on his waist. He’s facing the desk and chatting with his coworker, oblivious to Nick’s focused stare. Louis’ bum is encased in tight navy blue  trousers, his shirt tucked in, and his jacket not yet on. The fabric clings to each cheek, outlining his arse to perfection. Nick wants to press his hands to each one and let his fingers squeeze.

He doesn’t come out of his Louis induced trance until Louis turns around and the mesmerising spell of his arse has been broken by the movement.

“Still no hello.” Louis tsks. “I should teach you a lesson.”

Nick remains frozen in place. Being taught a lesson sounds like something he would dearly like to experience, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he suddenly remembers what he was going to say. “Hiya, Louis.”

“Hiya, Nick.” Louis replies, his lips curved into a half smile. “Lunch?”

“Lunch. Yes. I’ll--” Nick clears his throat a bit. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

He scurries off so as not to press his luck. He’s so giddy he nearly forgets to pay his regards to Maggie and Judi. He remembers just in time.

“We’re going to lunch!” He tells the portraits before continuing on before anyone catches him speaking to the art.

When he heads into the cafe to meet Louis, he feels infinitely more confident in the entire thing. Not that they have a “thing,” but they are definitely meeting for lunch. So it’s something. Zayn slides him a cappuccino and a smirk, and Nick saunters across the small cafe towards where Louis is sat in a corner today with his laptop.

“Hiya,” he says as he sits in the chair across from Louis.

Louis grins at him, and Nick thinks he can tell now when Louis smiles genuinely. His eyes become slivers of blue, delightfully crinkled in the corners. It may be the best thing Nick’s ever seen.

“I noticed this morning, but you look somehow even more posh today.”

Nick’s heart thumps a few extra beats at the thought that Louis notices anything about him really. “Uh, well, my flatmate is home, so that’s probably why.”

“You realise that doesn’t really make sense, yeah?”

Nick huffs out a nervous laugh. “Right. Well, my flatmate is a model, and she’s gone quite a bit. She just got back from Paris, actually. So she did a bit of dress up with me, I guess.”

“I like it. Your hair looks quite nice like that.”

Nick wants to slump to the floor like a puddle. He wills himself to act normal. “Thanks. It seems like most times I try something with my hair, it rains and I forget my umbrella.”

“Ah, yes that’s how it goes, innit?”

Some odd compulsion makes Nick a bit bold. “Can I ask you something?”

Louis looks at him searchingly as if his question might be found written across his face. “Sure.”

“Can I read something you’ve written?”

“Oh.” Louis’ eyes open widely in response. “I suppose--”

“Just read me any part of this mystery you’re writing.”

Louis nods and opens his laptop, letting the words reappear on the screen. “I just wrote this part. Like I said before, it’s set in nineteenth century Yorkshire. Howard’s the main character. He’s exploring the estate he’s inherited.”

  

 

> Louis clears his throat and begins to read. _“The terrain of the land still remains unfamiliar to Howard. He is not sure what he expects to see when he reaches the area surrounding the mine, but he figures he will know when he sees it. As soon as he draws near, his fingers and hands begin to throb in the most unnerving way. He hops down and warily walks towards the abandoned grey structures. When he reaches them, he notices the stone terraced into a path, weaving its way down a hillside still scattered with slate from the mines. He carefully walks down, down, down until he finds the entrance. It is much smaller than he imagined and whilst his curiosity draws him forward, something else seems to be pushing him back. It almost feels as if the air has grown too thick to breathe, cautioning him to leave. He decides to heed the warning, at least for now.”_

His voice and words mesmerise Nick so completely he fails to realise he’s shifted so far forward as to nearly be half way across the table. He jolts back when Louis stops and looks up from the screen.

“Louis. Woah. That was--just--” He’s at a bit of a loss. “I’m already intrigued and I barely know anything about it. It’s wonderful.”

Louis gives him a small smile. “Yeah, yeah. You sort of have to say that, don’t you? Can’t very well say it’s bollocks right to my face, can you?”

“But Louis it isn’t. It really isn’t. It’s great.” Nick hopes Louis can hear his sincerity.

“Well, you’re welcome to read a bit more of it if you’d like.” Louis turns the screen around to face Nick. “I’m gonna go to the loo.”

Nick begins to read a bit more of the next paragraph when he notices there’s another tab open. He tries to concentrate on the words of the story, but his curiosity is so piqued as to know if the other tab is the story he’d gotten a glimpse of the other day. Before he can stop himself, he’s clicking on the other tab.

 

 

 

> _“Well, maybe I should mark what’s mine as well then.” He attaches his lips to Mick’s neck as Mick gasps his name. Mick’s toes curl as Logan sucks and nips and soothes the skin he finds, and then Logan is tugging his pants down his legs. Mick props himself up to watch Logan as he stands up to wiggle his tight jeans off his body. “Want you to be mine.”_
> 
> _Mick’s dick gets even harder at that statement, leaking against his stomach, as Logan moves back between his legs. He pushes Mick’s knees up as he nips along his inner thigh._
> 
> _“Please, please, please,” Mick begs. He’s not even sure what he’s asking for. Just something, anything._
> 
> _Logan hesitates for a moment before lightly drifting his fingers over Mick’s arse._
> 
> _“Yes, Logan! Please!” He calls out, writhing a bit on the bed as he feels Logan--”_

“So what do you think?”

“Fuck!” Nick screeches as he slams the laptop shut. “Um. Sorry. Just scared me. I was really--engrossed.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a good thing, I suppose,” Louis says as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

Nick tries to collect himself. “So have you always been a writer, then?”

Louis shrugs. “Sort of. Mostly just for myself. I got a short story published, and I decided maybe I should try and do something more with my writing.”

“You really should, you know. You’re very talented.”

“Thanks. It’s just something that’s fun though, too. Like I get to make my characters do whatever I want. I’m in complete control of the universe, and that’s very satisfying for me.”

“Mmmm.” Nick begins to think about that statement.

“Do you not agree then? You aren’t a control freak? For some reason I thought you were.” Louis says with a laugh. It’s said casually without a hint of judgement.

Nick answers seriously though. “I can see why you’d think that, and for the most part I do live very in control of certain parts of my life. But I don’t always want to be. If that makes sense.”

Nick runs a hand through his hair, probably ruining Daisy’s careful touch. “Like when I go on holiday, I like to book a tour and be told what to do and where to go and at what time. No planning, just following. Even when I just first get on the aeroplane and they tell me to remain seated and fasten your seatbelts, I even like that--”

Oh god. He’s said too much. He looks up anxiously at Louis who is wearing a very curious expression.

“Yeah, I can understand that.”

///

Nick has spent the entire weekend in an increasing state of panic. At some point Louis is going to open that laptop and see what was actually on the screen that Nick was reading. His only hope really is that Louis doesn’t remember that the last time he had it open was for Nick to read.

He finds himself too nervous to walk through the main entrance today, but he feels the loss of it somehow. As though he’s now so used to centering himself not only with a glance at Louis but at the art as he passes through. He may be an accountant, but there’s a reason he chose to work at an art museum.

By the time lunch rolls around, his nerves are completely shot. His heart pounds in his ears as he nears the cafe. He walks up to the counter as though on his death march. Zayn slides the cappuccino to him with a slightly concerned look on his face. Nick’s fear must be written all over his face.

He finally looks around for Louis who is tapping away at the keyboard. He has a moment where he thinks about just fleeing the scene of the crime, but there would be no point in it. He can’t stay away from Louis now if that weren’t already obvious to himself.

He slowly makes his way towards Louis who happens to glance up when he nears. Louis shoots him a beautiful smile, and Nick sits relieved that perhaps everything is fine. Louis must not have noticed at all that Nick had left open that tab of his very explicit writing and not the historical mystery.

He relaxes into conversation as Louis closes his laptop and begins to eat. Nick realises that Louis now waits to eat until Nick can join him. The thought of this warms him. They somehow pick up their conversation where it left off, reminiscing about past holidays and where they’d most like to return and new places they’d like to visit someday.

“Instead of booking through a tour agency, next time you can just have me plan it,” Louis announces as Nick finishes his last spoonful of soup. “I’m quite good at planning a holiday. Very thorough, I’ve been told.”

“Ah, but part of what I like is to be able to just follow the group. If I’ve got no group, what am I to do? I don’t want to go alone.”

“Well, you could invite a friend to follow my itinerary closely. Or I’ll go and you can just follow me about like a lost puppy.”

Nick laughs. “I’m not a lost puppy! But I wouldn’t mind following you about Barcelona. It’s just much more of a holiday for me that way. I dunno though. You sound a bit expensive.”

Nick shakes his head with a pretended sad resignation. He looks up at Louis to gauge his response, but he doesn’t find the response he expected. Louis’ elbow is propped on the table, his chin resting on his fist. His eyes search Nick quite unnervingly before he speaks.

“Perhaps I’ll sell my story of Mick and Logan’s sexual adventures and be able to afford the trip all on my own.”

Nick stares back in shock. His guilt must be plastered all over his face right now, but he can’t stop his reaction from happening. He thought he was in the clear. Apparently not. He can feel the embarrassment of it all creep up his spine in pin pricks of humiliation. He’s not even sure how he’s managing to sit upright and not slump off his chair to the floor.

“Louis,” he croaks out. “I can--explain.”

“I’d love to hear your explanation then,” Louis says. His tone confuses Nick. Louis appears to be calm and not at all upset, but the words he’s chosen to say don’t match his tone.

“Oh god. I don’t have a good explanation. I’m just very, very sorry. I’m so sorry. I just--I don’t know what came over me. I had read some of it before and I got curious--” Louis’ eyes widen at this new confession, and Nick could honestly kick himself for admitting to even more of it. Nick tries to stand. He’s so shaky, he isn’t sure he can walk out of here without falling over.

Louis stands as well. “I think I’d like to speak with you privately.”

“Oh.” Nick is taken aback yet again. He has no idea if this is a bad or good thing. Perhaps it would be better to do his groveling for forgiveness in private before Louis washes his hands of him for good. “We can go to my office.”

“Fine.” Louis motions for him to lead the way.

Nick heads out of the cafe and makes his way back across the museum as Louis walks just a half pace behind him. Nick can see him peripherally over his shoulder. Louis glances at the portraits as they pass by, and Nick wants to plead with Maggie and Judi to save him.

When they reach his office, he gives thanks for small mercies that this part of the floor remains deserted as everyone has gone out for lunch. He unlocks the door and walks into the small room. He stands just inside the door, his heart beating triple time. He can’t even bear to look Louis in the eyes. He looks down at the toes of his boots instead.

“Look at me.”

Nick’s head snaps up.

Louis takes one step closer. “When did you first read it?”

“When you--that first time--your laptop was open--and I--”

“Give me a clear answer.”

“The first time you left me with your laptop open.”

Louis takes another step closer, and Nick backs up a step instinctually. “Have you been reading my story every time I go to take a piss?”

“I--well--it’s just that--”

Louis moves another step forwards, and now NIck finds himself backed up against his desk.

“I said to give me clear answers.”

“Yes,” Nick whispers. “Every time.”

His humiliation feels complete now because the way that Louis is speaking to him and the way that Louis’ eyes burn into him and the fact that he’s now so close and Nick can smell his cologne has resulted in a--situation.

Nick’s never been so hard in his life.

In the next second, he sees Louis glance down his body, and he finds a new level to his embarrassment. “Is this--turning you on?”

“No,” Nick squeaks.

“Don’t lie. It is. I can see that it is. Say it. Say that it’s turning you on”

“It’s turning me on.”

Louis stills. “Is it me? Or what I’m saying to you?”

Nick closes his eyes, feeling the edge of the desk with the palms of his hands. “Both.”

“I see.”

He’s afraid to open his eyes. He doesn’t want to see the look on Louis’ face. He doesn’t want to see the end of their burgeoning friendship that he has now ruined. And maybe he didn’t know if any of this would lead to anything more than friendship, but now he’ll never know.

“My flatmate is working tonight.”

Nick’s eyelids fly open. He doesn’t know what to say or what Louis is even implying.

“You can come over to mine. Tonight.”

“I can?” Nick chokes out.

“Yeah. If you want to.”

“I do! I want! I want to come!” Fuck, if he couldn’t answer any more ridiculously, but Louis doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even seem to react besides the way his eyes seem to be scrutinising him.

“Give me your phone.”

Nick fumbles in his pocket for his phone, which he immediately hands to Louis. He watches Louis’ delicate fingers text himself using Nick’s phone. He can hardly breathe with Louis still standing so close to him.

“I’ll text you the address later,” Louis says as Nick nods dumbly. He’s still in shock if he’s honest and is trying to process what’s happening just as Louis backs away towards the door. Nick feels a physical loss when Louis leaves the bubble of tension they’d found themselves in. “I’ll text you a time as well. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

///

The problem is that of course Nick _is_ worried about things. All the things. Every thing. He’s not even sure what he’s going to Louis’ flat for. Are they going to have a serious talk? Are they still friends? Is Louis propositioning him? Is Louis going to fuck him? He whimpers a little at the thought of that. Best not to get his hopes up quite that high.

He showers and sits on his bed in just a towel, staring at Louis’ address on his phone. He doesn’t know what to wear. Should he dress for a date? Is this a date? So many questions. So many things to worry about. His stomach churns with nerves.

He decides to dress as nicely as possible. He has a black and white print shirt that Daisy procured for him somehow. He buttons and unbuttons the top few over and over deciding how to wear it. He finally leaves them open and wills himself not to touch them again. He stands in front of the tiny mirror in the loo and carefully styles his hair. When he’s ready, he faffs about in his living room until it’s time to leave.

By the time he stands outside Louis’ flat waiting for the exact time to ring the buzzer, his heart seems permanently lodged in his throat.

“Come up.”

Louis’ voice sounds different somehow when he speaks like that in a clipped tone. He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds more--commanding. It sends a pleasant shiver through Nick.

When Louis opens the door, Nick nearly swallows his own tongue. Louis’ tight black jeans hug his legs like a dream. His black t-shirt would perhaps be unremarkable if it weren’t a bit sheer and clinging to his chest enough to make out a hint of the ink tattooed across it.

Louis ushers him into the small flat as Nick’s nerves tap dance under his skin. Louis points to a sofa. “Sit.”

Nick sits. He looks up at Louis who is looming over him so close that their knees are nearly touching. “What would you like, Nick?”

Nick can’t manage to form proper words. He isn’t sure even what Louis is asking of him. Would he like a tea? Would he like a shot of whiskey? Would he like Louis to undress himself and bend over and--

Louis climbs on top of his lap. His legs straddling him, his arms wrapped around his neck. Nick can feel the fine prickles of the scruff of hair from his cheek against his own as Louis whispers in his ear, “Do you want to do what I say?”

White noise blasts through Nick’s brain, but he manages to nod his head several times before he pushes out the word, “Yes!”

“Good. I’d like to get you off.”

Nick makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat as Louis slides off his legs and onto the sofa next to him. He looks at him under obscenely long eyelashes as his deft fingers work open his jeans. Louis seems to relish in the difficulty he has pulling Nick’s jeans down under his arse.  Louis leaves him like this, his legs trapped by the tightness of his jeans and his cock steadily hardening against his belly.

“Take off your shirt.”

Nick must be dreaming. That is the only possible explanation for someone finding out that you’ve been stupid over them and then they decide they want you to come to their flat so they can tell you to take off your clothes and pull out your cock whilst sitting next to you on their sofa.

Nick hurriedly pulls off his shirt and flings it on the floor. He pulls in a gasp at the first touch of Louis’ finger tips softly closing around him. He slumps down further into the sofa, further into Louis’ touch. Instead of watching Louis’ fingers as they stroke up and down his cock, he watches Louis’ face.

From the first moment he set eyes on Louis, he thought him the prettiest person he’d ever seen, but now there is a new look about him that is setting Nick’s blood on fire. Louis’ eyes blaze blue flames of desire as he changes the pace at which he works at Nick’s cock. Soft first, then more tightly. Slowly, then more quickly. Louis seems to be closely watching every twitch, every gasp, every moan that comes from Nick’s lips as he pumps his hand. Louis thumbs over the tip of him and Nick groans.

Nick has never in his life had a hand job quite like this, one where all he can do is lay back and experience it. There’s a new type of enjoyment to be had whilst someone tries to pleasure you like this. Suddenly, Louis presses up against him, licking one long stripe up his neck to his ear as he pumps his fist more quickly.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Louis growls into his ear just before he takes the lobe of Nick’s ear between his teeth.

This is the exact moment of Nick’s limit. He comes into Louis’ hand and across his own stomach with a long moan.

Nick thinks he might be going into shock. It’s not as though this seemed an impossibility for this night, but rather this seemed like the absolute best case scenario and he can hardly believe his good fortune. This is when he realises Louis is still wearing all his clothes whilst he sits here shirtless with his pants and jeans around his thighs and his dick hanging out.

“Louis?” Nick’s voice comes out more raspy than he intended. He clears his throat. “Do you want me to--I mean, I could--”

Louis shakes his head no as he kneels next to him, still on the sofa. He pulls his shirt off over his head and slowly unzips himself out of his jeans. Louis pushes down the tight fabric along with his pants before taking his cock in his own hand. There’s such a determined, fierce look about him now, towering over Nick’s slumped form.

Nick watches wide-eyed as Louis stares back. He seems to be taking in the sight of Nick, come streaked across his belly. Louis’ eyes travel up and down the length of his body as he strokes himself hard and fast. When he comes onto Nick’s stomach, it joins what Louis has already wrung out of him.

Louis grabs tissues off the small table next to the sofa and proceeds to wipe them both off a bit before Nick realises that Louis has said something.

“What?” Nick asks.

“Lunch?”

“What about it?”

“Are you joining me for lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh. Uh. Yes. I--am.”

“Great.” The way Louis says it sounds genuine, but it also sounds as though it’s a dismissal of sorts.

Nick tucks himself away and stands up quickly, trying to put his shirt back on as gracefully as possible, which turns out to be not very graceful.

Louis walks him to the door and waves him off with a huge grin plastered across his face. He would assume that since Louis has asked him to lunch, Nick would feel somewhat reassured, but this dismissal right now makes him feel a bit defensive. He stumbles back to his flat in a bit of a daze.

///

Showing up for lunch at the cafe requires nearly all of Nick’s nerve. He tries to behave normally, but even Zayn gives him an odd look as he slides the cappuccino to him. Nick nods a thank you before working his way through the small tables until he arrives at the one currently occupied by one very beautiful man, typing away on his laptop with a lecherous smile spread across his lovely face.

As soon as he notices Nick though, he slaps the laptop closed and gives him a friendly smile as he pats the seat next to him.

“Please sit,” Louis says.

Nick does as he’s told and sits eating a salad as Louis talks to him about some of the settings of his historical mystery novel.

“I dunno. I think Oldham would have made a better setting.” Nick grins as he takes a bite of his salad.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me tell you all the ways Yorkshire is superior, mate. We’ll be here all day. Sorry, but even if just for the tea, you’re all wrong.”

“The tea? Pffft.” Nick rolls his lips into a dismissive noise.  “Please don’t tell me you’re a devotee of Yorkshire tea.”

Louis pretends to get up from the table in outrage. Nick laughs loudly and tugs at the sleeve of the navy jacket that’s part of Louis’ uniform. It amazes him that he has seen him out of it.

This all leads to a long monologue on the glories of Yorkshire during which Nick can barely contain the fondness that creeps into his heart. He tries to tamp it down though. It’s all a bit confusing really. Here he sits with Louis chatting and eating as friends when less than a day ago Louis had his dick in his hand. Louis opens up his laptop again and reads Nick a particularly nice description of an old Yorkshire estate before excusing himself to the loo.

And there it sits. Open. Louis’ laptop beckons to him and before he can remember how this has burned him in the very recent past, he stares at the words written across the screen.

 

 

 

 

 

> _Mick pulls his shirt up and over his head, exposing the lean lines of his body. His hair now in disarray, he flings the shirt to the floor. At the first touch of his hands on his hard cock, Mick melts into the sofa._
> 
> _Logan watches his own fingers stroke the long length of him. He’s wanted his hands on him for so long now, and the time has finally arrived. He takes his time finding the rhythm that seems to please Mick most. He works at finding the right pressure and speed to pleasure--_

Nick wrenches his eyes away from the screen and pushes it back into place. His heart beats to an off rhythm as he tries to come to terms with the idea that maybe--perhaps--Louis is writing about--them.

He tries to behave in a somewhat normal manner when Louis returns to the table. He tells a funny story about a radio contest he won once off BBC1 and how he got to talk on air for a bit. Dead exciting that. He really throws himself into the story to deflect from the thought of what he just read on that screen.

Today, they walk out of the cafe together, Louis giving his arm a squeeze as he turns to head back to the entrance desk, and Nick turns to head back to the administrative offices.

This marks the second time that Nick wanks to the thought of Louis in his office over lunch.

///

Nick’s head fills with a fog of uncertainty as he thinks over the words he read this afternoon. They follow him around his office for the rest of the day. They stream along beside him as he takes the tube back to his flat. They float in and out as he attempts to make himself some sort of food.

His phone buzzes.

He drops the spatula he was using to plate the chicken and scrambles for the phone. It’s a text. From Louis. It says: _My flatmate is working again tonight._

Nick’s heart is in his throat as he tries to text back, starting and deleting over and over. He has no idea what to say. Is this an invitation? Will it be like last night? Is he propositioning him?

Another text comes through. _Stop thinking. I can see you trying to answer. If you want me to blow you, come over in an hour._

Nick fumbles the phone in his shaky hands as though it were as slippery as an eel. It tumbles to the floor, seemingly unharmed. He quickly texts back, _okay!_ with a smiley face and presses send before he thinks about the smiley face as being slightly weird, considering. He collapses into a chair at the table and puts his face in his hands as he tries to keep calm.

He suddenly remembers his chicken and can barely choke it down before he stumbles into his bedroom to find a proper outfit in his wardrobe. What kind of outfit does one wear to a blow job? Oh lord. What is his life right now? He decides to try to not think about it. Louis wants him to stop thinking and just--go with it. So that’s what he’ll try to do.

He pulls on blue jeans and a navy jumper and runs some product through his hair, and he’s standing outside Louis’ flat precisely one hour later. He buzzes up and walks at a neat and steady pace to Louis’ door before politely knocking.

Louis flings open the door. Nick wants to crumple to the floor and whinge at his feet. How does this man exist? He looks so beautiful with his hair soft against his forehead. The jumper he’s wearing is far too large for his small frame. It hangs off him, his fingers barely poking through the ends of the sleeves.  He’s got trackies on rolled up to his ankles above his lovely bare feet. Can feet be lovely? Louis’ are. Oh god. He’s staring at Louis’ feet.

He forces his eyes up to Louis’ face just as Louis reaches for him. Louis pulls him by the middle of his jumper forwards into the flat. He totters through the doorway as Louis leads him like a puppy on a leash through to his living room. Louis pivots on his heel and pushes him down onto the sofa.

Louis sinks to his knees in front of him, and Nick instinctively widens his legs for Louis to fit between them.

Louis smirks. “First, your jeans need to come off.”

“Oh. Right.” Nick hurriedly unzips himself and tries to pry them down his legs. He can feel a bead of sweat at his temple at the mere thought of Louis’ mouth on him.

The jeans catch at his ankles and he goes to tug them down further and off, but Louis takes over the task until Nick is sitting half naked on Louis’ sofa. “Um, hope your flatmate doesn’t mind my arse on your sofa--”

“You think too much. Just stop. I’ll take care of everything.”

Louis stares at Nick’s cock. It twitches under his watchful eye.

“My shirt--should I--”

“I said to stop thinking so hard, Nicholas,” Louis says as he pushes his body forward against Nick. Louis’ fingers creep under Nick’s jumper, leaving him gasping at the first touch. Nick’s arms pull up as Louis strips the shirt up and over his head.

Louis hands the shirt to him. “Here, sit on your shirt if you’re so worried about my flatmate.”

Nick scrunches his nose. “I suppose I should. Don’t want him or her to be angry about any arse prints I might leave.”

“Oh my god,” Louis barks out with a laugh, slipping out of his own jumper and throwing it to the floor. “Stop. No wonder you go on holidays where people tell you what to do. You overthink everything don’t you?”

Nick freezes. “Is that why you’re--why it’s been like--”

“I think I know how to stop you from thinking,” Louis says as he runs his hands up Nick’s thighs.

Nick lets out a strangled noise he didn’t know his throat could even make as Louis presses his fingertips into his thighs as he licks one long stripe up the underside of his cock. Nick can’t control the jerk of his hips that rise up at the sensation of Louis’ mouth enveloping him, hot and wet. Louis presses him down into the sofa to keep him from doing it again, and Nick gives in to the onslaught.

Louis’ mouth closes around his cock, sucking down gently as he slides Nick in and out of his mouth. Nick whimpers which seems to encourage Louis to close his mouth over him more tightly, continuing the wet slide between his lips. Louis’ tongue laps at his slit at every withdrawal as Nick relishes the ebb and flow of heat.

The only noise in the flat are Nick’s moans and the wet sounds of Louis’ mouth on his cock. Nick watches the obscene beauty of Louis’ cheeks as they hollow out as he takes him further down for a moment before sliding back to drag his lips against the length of him and slide him back over his tongue.

A new sound reaches Nick’s ears as he feels one of Louis’ hands release his thigh. He can hear rather than see Louis using his free hand to stroke his own cock. He can’t stop himself from using his fingers to brush back the locks of hair that have fallen over Louis’ eyes. The gesture draws Louis’ eyes back to his face and Nick sees the stark desire there before suddenly Louis draws him back further into his mouth.

Nick gasps at the sensation. His body shudders, and he can feel his orgasm begin to build.

“Louis. Lou. I’m gonna--” Nick gasps again as Louis continues to let his tongue slide along Nick as he takes him again more deeply. “Gonna come, Lou.”

Louis’ hand keeps pressure on Nick’s thigh as he finally reaches the peak. He keeps his hand cupped to Louis’ cheek as he comes down Louis’ throat. He can feel the almost physical weight of Louis’ gaze as he comes, hot and heavy.

Nick’s breath comes in rapid gulps as he tries to regain some control of himself. Louis climbs back onto the sofa and curls up to the side of Nick’s body.

“Do you want me to--” Nick begins, wondering if Louis wants him to return the favour.

“I already--” Louis offers a sideways smile as he gestures to the damp spot at the front of his trackies.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Louis sits up, and Nick mourns the loss of contact. “So lunch on Thursday then?”

“Oh, ehm. Yes. I’ll--see you then, I suppose.” Nick tries to keep the confusion out of his voice, but he feels a bit bare at the moment sitting with his now soft dick and arse out on Louis’ sofa whilst at the same time seeming to be dismissed. He quickly stands and throws his jumper back on and does his best to quickly put on his jeans without falling over.

When Nick is back in his own bedroom, he lays staring at the ceiling for far longer than usual. In his wildest fantasies, he had only thought as far as kissing Louis, and now, here he is getting a blowie on a Tuesday night.

Although, a part of him still wishes just for that kiss that still seems elusively out of reach.

///

“I’m surprised you’re here. It being a Wednesday and all.”

“Guess you don’t have my cappuccino ready for me, yeah?”

“I’ll get right on it.” Zayn makes as if to turn towards the espresso machine.

“No, no. That’s okay. I’ll refrain today.”

“Okay. So why are you here when your man’s not here? Miss my beautiful face?” Zayn waggles his eyebrows.

“No.” Nick rolls his eyes. “And he’s not my man--exactly. I don’t think.”

“Sounds like you’re not sure. Have you progressed to seeing each other outside the walls of this cafe?”

“Well--yes--”

“Oh, really?” Zayn’s eyes pop. “Do tell.”

“Uhhhh--”

“Woah, now. Your face is telling me a story I am not sure I’m ready to hear. Are you two fucking already?”

“Zayn!” Nick hisses. “I--no. We aren’t ‘fucking’ as you so delicately put it.”

“Well, what are you doing? Because that guilty look on your face says that something’s going on.”

Nick feels a bit silly, but he continues. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this, but he’s invited me to his flat a few times.”

“And?”

“And there was some--stuff that happened.”

“Like making out kind of stuff or--”

“No. Actually. Though that would have been nice--er. So yeah, no kissing, but some other--stuff.”

“Ohhhhhhhh. I see.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, you’re fuck buddies.”

“What? No we aren’t!” Nick screeches before he puts a lid on it. “I just told you we aren’t fucking per se.”

“Well, I think it’s still called fuck buddies if you’re getting each other off and you’re not getting a kiss out of the deal.”

Nick purses his lips. “Okay, well, can we call it ‘friends with benefits’ instead?”

“Sure, mate. Doesn’t really change much though, does it?”

Nick frowns. “I guess not.”

///

The smile Louis beams at him as he approaches the table on Thursday could light up the darkest night sky. It’s unfair really for him to be so beautiful and talented and bewitching. Nick is thoroughly under his spell. He sits with his cappuccino and his guilt at telling Zayn what’s going on between them and just hopes that Zayn can keep his mouth shut.

He just stares and grins at Louis for a long moment before deciding he should say something--anything--to avoid looking completely daft. “I’m thinking of getting a dog.”

Nick has no idea where that came from if he’s honest.

“A dog?” Louis’ eyes light up. “Very nice, lad! Dogs are the best really. Glad you’re not getting a cat. Don’t understand cats, myself.”

“Maybe they don’t understand you either.” Lord knows, Nick doesn’t.

“Piss off. Cats don’t care to understand anyone at all.”

“I suppose.” Nick answers.  “Anyway, I’m thinking I’ll go have a look around on the weekend. See if any of them seem like they’d like to come home with me.”

“I’d like to come home with you.” Louis says in low voice, a dirty smile on his handsome face.

“Would you? Because my flatmate is away, so you could, if you’d like to.”

“Oh.” Louis looks at him with a hint of surprise. “Yes. I can come over if you’d like. Good to know we can use your place sometimes.”

The way that Louis speaks about them definitely implies future encounters, it’s just that Nick isn’t sure if this will ever go anywhere beyond that.

“Text me your address and I’ll come after I get home from work and shower and such. Be right back.” Louis stands and strides off towards the loo.

And there it sits. The cursed laptop that Nick can never resist. He doesn’t understand why Louis constantly leaves it open, but since he does, Nick can’t keep himself from sneaking a peek.

 

  

 

> _Logan wastes no time once he’s got Mick pressed into the sofa, He takes Mick’s cock in and out of the heat of his mouth. He flicks his tongue and licks up the underside of him, forcing gasps of pleasure from Mick’s lips. This is what Logan ached to do for him, to take away some of his control and in turn give him a measure of peace. He relishes the way Mick looks at him as though looking up on something precious and desirable._
> 
> _Logan slides Mick’s cock into his mouth deeper and deeper until he’s nearly choking. His cock aches between his legs, and he frees one hand to begin working himself over. When he feels the gentle fingertips on his face he--_

Nick doesn’t want to panic, but this seems an awful lot like what happened at Louis’ flat the other night. He tries to remind himself that a blow job is a blow job. Probably all blow jobs sound similar.

///

As Nick takes the cappuccino and sits at what he’s come to think of as Louis’ table, he realises what a pattern this has become between them. He likes the idea of that quite a lot if he’s honest.

“So have they solved the mystery yet?”

Louis stops typing and looks up at Nick, the corners of his mouth upturned into a small smile. “Not yet.”

Louis pushes the laptop to the side and takes the first bite of his sandwich. He’s waited to eat until Nick arrived. Has he always done this? “Do you always wait to eat until I’ve come?”

“Yes, of course,” Louis says.

“Oh. That’s--nice.”

“It’s polite, Nicholas. I’ve invited you to have lunch with me. Why would I eat it without you here? Unless of course you’re my step-father’s sister. Perpetually late, that one. We had to start Christmas dinner without her last year. My mum was fit to be tied over it.”

Nick smiles down into his plate. He loves to hear the way Louis speaks of his family. Oh, he’ll complain, but in the fondest way. It’s clear how much he loves them.

“Do they all still live in Doncaster then? Your family?”

“For the most part. A few assorted cousins live elsewhere, but yeah, I seem to be the only one who’s flown the coop as of now.”

“How many sisters do you have again?”

“Five. And a brother.”

“All younger?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, nice. I can see you as the big brother type, actually.”

“Ha. How so?”

Nick takes a breath. “The one to take charge. Protective.”

Louis nods his head, a small spark of something crossing his face for a brief moment.

When Louis goes to the loo, Nick reads the words written across the screen, his own Pandora Box.

 

 

 

> _Logan, his face flushed pink, watches Mick as he zips down his jeans, releasing his hard cock. He starts to stroke himself, but Logan quickly replaces Mick’s hand with his own. Mick thrusts into his fist as he breathes heavily against his mouth. Their lips brushing against each other in the lightest of touches as Mick gasps his name before coming into his hand._

It’s time to face facts. Louis is most definitely writing about them, and Nick has no idea how to feel about this. Is Louis using him for fodder for his erotic stories? And if he is, does Nick really care?

He plays back the moment in his mind of Louis’ lips finally brushing against his own. He wonders if Louis knows that it was their first kiss, brief though it may have been. The interaction detailed between Mick and Logan doesn’t say, so it’s impossible for Nick to know. He can tell by the writing that Louis has no clue that it was that fleeting sensation of the soft satin of Louis’ lips on his own that had Nick suddenly coming into his hand without warning.

He’s not sure how to feel about that either.

///

“Do you know what your story needs?” Nick gives him his cheekiest grin.

“No. Do tell. This should be great.” Louis moves his laptop and bag to make room at the cafe table.

“Needs more football.”

“Ah!” Louis snaps his fingers. “Of course. How did I not see this before? I’ll have Howard head to a Donny Rovers game on horseback right after he deals with the spirit that seems to be wreaking havoc out on the moors.”

“You’re welcome.” Nick nods gravely. “You seem to love football, so I thought to make it a bit more fun for you.”

“Right, right. But maybe I’ll leave off the footie in this historical mystery novel and just let footie be a part of my real life. Is this you saying we should be watching more football on the telly?”

“God, no.” Nick pulls a face. “I’ll send you up north to watch with my dad or summat. He’ll be glad for someone to watch with. My mum and I will make snacks and gossip in the kitchen.”

The words have tumbled out of Nick’s mouth before he can do anything to keep them inside. He can feel the wrong note of it and can barely keep from cringing. The only thing he can think to do is to not meet Louis’ eye and barrel through.

“Not that we have time for footie when you can’t keep your hands off me.” He chances a glance up at Louis’ face and sees him sit back in his chair. His eyes gleam in amusement, and he bites his bottom lip that has curled into a smile.

“Is that so?” Louis asks as he stands up from the table.. “Well, maybe tonight we’ll see if I can keep my hands to myself.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Nick asks as he watches Louis saunter off.

“Both.” Louis calls out over his shoulder as he walks off, swinging his hips much more than necessary. Not that Nick minds. He watches every second of Louis’ bum as it walks away from him.

He slumps in his chair and stares at the open laptop for one, two, three beats. He should know by now that when it comes to Louis he has no will power. His only regret is he’s wasted a few seconds of reading time.

  

 

 

> _Logan relishes the way Mick gives into him, letting him learn just how to flick his tongue across his slit, how to cup his balls in his hands as he slides Mick’s cock between his lips. These are the things he thinks about as he draws Mick down onto the sofa, Logan lets the loose neckline of his jumper fall off his shoulder purposely. He sees the way Mick looks at him when he does things like this, provocative things._

Nick quickly slides the laptop back in place. Well, that’s a bit embarrassing. Louis apparently can tell when Nick’s turned on by things like Louis’ collarbones. Nick still maintains some dignity though.

Or at least he thinks he does until he finds himself at Louis’ flat that night with Louis’ hands tied to the chair he’s sitting in. All his dignity bids farewell and flees into the night.

///

“What made you decide to work at an art gallery?” Louis asks as he takes a sip of tea. “Wouldn’t have thought a numbers bloke would be much interested in art.”

“Oh.” Nick sniffs and sits up straight in his seat. “A creative snob, I see. We can’t all create things, you know. Some of us have to just do the bookkeeping and be content with just looking at the art.”

“Seems like you like your job though.”

“Yeah, I do. I get to do something I’m good at and pass portraits of Judi Dench and Maggie Smith everyday. Well, I do if I come in your entrance anyway.”

“Woah, woah, woah now.” Louis holds up his hands in mock defense.  “We’re in public, Nicholas. Not sure you should be talking about coming in my entrances.”

“Bloody hell, Louis.” Nick hisses. He can feel his blush spread up his neck and into his cheeks. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, yeah. You meant that you come in the main entrance to ogle me and then happen to pass a few portraits on your way to your office.”

Nick can feel the blush begin to heat his ears. “That’s--a bit closer,” he mutters.

Louis raises an eyebrow at the confession.

“So how about yourself? Why work here?” Nick asks.

“Well, I do actually enjoy most art mediums, and they happened to have an opening. So I figured, why not, really?”

Nick nods his understanding. “What’s your favourite piece here?”

Louis stops and seems to consider the question carefully for a moment. “You know, I don’t think I can say I have one favorite piece, but I have a love for the photographic portraits here. You can tell they’ve each been chosen for a reason if that makes sense.”

Louis shrugs a shoulder and takes a bite of his sandwich. He had seemed on the verge of saying something more, and Nick feels a few moments of hope that he’ll continue his thoughts.

“Why do you think they were chosen then?” Nick finally asks. He would listen to Louis talk all day about any subject, but this one means something to both of them. He wants to know more.

“For their power, I’d say. They don’t just show what the person looked like, do they? There’s much more a sense of who they might have been and what it might have been like to have stood next to them. That this one carefully selected moment in time might have captured a bit of that person’s spirit. Sorry, don’t mean to go on about it.”

“God, don’t be sorry, Louis. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the art in this gallery.” Something pops into Nick’s mind, and he decides to say it before he can overthink it. “There’s a Cezanne exhibit that’s opening here soon. I’ve got two tickets for the opening on Friday. Was going to take my flatmate, but she was only coming because I said I’d buy her a drink at Late Shift. Would you like to come with me instead?”

Louis beams back a smile that knocks Nick back a bit. “I’ll be here, too, actually. Made Niall promise to come with me. Told him I’d buy him a drink at the bar as well. Great minds and all that, I suppose.”

“Oh! Well, okay, then. I’ll see you there. Get to meet this infamous Niall character who’s never at home.”

“I’ll get to meet this infamous Daisy character who’s never at home.”

“I guess it’s been a bit by design that we haven’t met the flatmates.” Nick’s brain conjures up a thousand questions. Does Niall even know about him? Does Louis talk about him much? How will he introduce them? How will _he_ introduce Daisy? Fuck, he’ll have to give Daisy a primer on what not to say.

He can hardly wait for Louis to go to the loo. He’s addicted to Louis’ writing. Both the historical mystery that Louis shares with him freely, and the naughty bits that he doesn’t.

 

 

 

> _Logan feels the silk of his neckties binding him to the chair as they rub against his wrists, his nude body taut and ready. He sits, straining a bit in the chair, his cock hard and standing up proudly from his body. He can hardly stand the anticipation of Mick’s long fingers caressing him. He aches for a touch like none he’s ever felt before._
> 
> _“Touch me.” He finally whispers hoarsely._
> 
> _Mick immediately falls to his knees in front of him, gingerly touching his muscled thighs as though he’s been gifted something unexpected. Logan feels Mick’s warm breath wash over him just before he feels the warmth of his mouth--_

The problem with reading about his own sexual exploits being played out in black and white across a computer screen is that Nick can instantly see the scene in his mind. It brings him right back into the moment he got down on his knees for Louis and teased him whilst his hands were tied until Louis begged him for release, and it also brings his dick right back into the moment as well. He pushes the laptop away from him. No way he can keep reading that and not get hard right here in the cafe.

Fuck if Nick isn’t conflicted as hell over this. The whole thing leaves him feeling a bit exposed, and that’s not entirely fair seeing as how he’s sneaking a peek. He’s not really sure what to do about it.

///

“Not sure I’ve ever seen you like this, love.” Daisy smiles so widely her cheeks must hurt.

“Don’t take the piss, Daisy. I’m bloody nervous, okay? Fine, I’ve said it. I’m nervous.” He shifts his feet in his boots back and forth as they wait in a short line with their tickets.

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet your man finally.” Daisy adjusts her cleavage a bit in her half buttoned shirt.

Nick eyes her pointedly. “Well, I’m afraid he won’t be interested in those, love. Though they look lovely.”

“Thanks, darling. But maybe his friend will have a bit more interest.”

“Ah, true. I haven’t asked, but I got the idea Niall is straight.”

“Hmmm...I think I’ve spotted your man.”

“What? Where?” Nick can’t keep the panic out of his voice as he whips around to look around the room they’ve just entered.

“Well, there’s an extremely attractive man walking this way who started making his way over here as soon as we walked in.” Daisy pretends to fan herself. “Whew. Well, done, darling. He’s quite something.”

If it were appropriate, Nick would moan his appreciation for the way Louis looks in his tight jeans and boots. A white t shirt hugs his torso, and a suede biker jacket hangs off his body to perfection.

As Louis approaches, he suddenly has a bad moment where he doesn’t know what to do or say. A hug? A kiss? What’s appropriate here?

Just as he approaches, Nick realises there’s another man with him. In his panic, he’d forgotten about Niall. Niall steps directly in front of Louis and into Nick’s personal space. “Hiya, mate! Good to meet ya!”

He squeezes Nick in a brief, but very tight hug before turning to Daisy. Niall’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.

“Wow. I mean, hello.” He holds out a hand to shake Daisy’s.  “I’m Niall. Me mate Louis has been shagging your flatmate. We’re like friends by shag proxy or somethin.’”

“Obviously,” Daisy replies with a laugh. “Nice to meet you as well, Niall. And this must be Louis.”

Nick and Louis have just been standing awkwardly nearby as their flatmates discuss their sex life. Louis collects himself enough to shake Daisy’s hand and give her a warm smile. “Nice to finally put a face to a name.”

“Oh, does Nick actually speak about me to you? He’s kept you well away from me before now.” She makes a tsking noise in fun.

Louis gives him an odd look that Nick isn’t sure how to interpret. Nick decides it may be best to just barrel through this. “Shall we go have a look at the exhibit then? I’m quite interested. I believe there’s over fifty portraits of Cezanne’s here--”

“I’m just here for the free drink, mate.” Niall interrupts. “Daisy, can I interest you in finding the bar before these two start talking about portraits and brushstrokes?”

Daisy gives him a saucy smile as she links her arm with Niall’s and heads off.

Nick watches them walk off. “Well.”

“Yeah.”

“Guess we should have left them behind.”

Louis shrugs. “Let’s go have a look around then.”

///

“The way he builds form with colour was so unique to the time.”

“Yes! And you can just see how he influenced everyone who was to come. The Cubists, the Fauvists, the--”

Nick and Louis both startle a bit and turn from one of the portraits of Cezanne’s wife to face their flatmates who are looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

“Oh no, they’re still talking about art.”

“What’s left to talk about? We’ve been at the bar for over an hour!”

Louis rolls his eyes. “We haven’t even seen every portrait yet. There’s a lot to consider thematically--”

“Mate, how many paintings of a bloke’s wife can you look at?” Niall asks, incredulous.

“Oh, but this exhibit is really highlighting some particular themes of his work! You’ve got to look at them all as whole and not just individual pieces. The complementary pairs and different versions of the same subjects--” Nick begins.

Daisy interrupts him. “You two really are made for each other.”

Nick quickly glances at Louis to catch his reaction to her words, but he’s turned back to the portrait. Nick thinks he sees a small smile on his face, but he can’t help but wonder if he’s just seeing what he wants to see.

///

Nick had hoped that their unofficial date at the gallery would change something between them. In some small ways it has changed things. Their flatmates now know each other and have taken to texting each other at all hours. Daisy keeps insisting that it isn’t _all_ taking the piss about he and Louis, but he suspects a great deal of it is. But Louis still doesn’t stay over, and so Nick feels as though he can’t either. He’s let Louis set the parameters of this, whatever this is. He knows he’s too afraid of losing this to ask for something more, but it’s begun to weigh on him.

He knows he’s being a bit quiet today at lunch, but his mind is just whirring a bit. Louis gives him an odd look.

“I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“I just said I’ll be right back.”

“Oh. Right.” Nick knows his smile probably looks forced as the odd look on Louis’ face remains before he turns to walk towards the loo. He pulls the laptop towards him and somehow he just knows he shouldn’t today. He can already feel a prick of dread before he ever reads the words.

 

 

 

> _Logan presses his body against Mick’s back, pushing him forward with his hips until they reach the desk. Gently, he presses Mick’s body towards the hard surface of the carved wood._
> 
> _“Bend over it.” Logan commands._
> 
> _Mick hurries to comply as Logan’s hand guides him down. When Logan has him bent over the desk just as he wants him, he reaches his deft fingers around to the front of Mick’s trousers, palming over his already hardened cock. He releases Mick from the confines of his pants and trousers, carefully drawing them down the long lines of his legs. Logan nips at the exposed skin as he moves his way back up Mick’s body. Mick shudders slightly, his long fingers curved tightly over the edge of the desk._
> 
> _Logan forges a path down Mick’s back with one slicked up finger until he reaches the cleft between his arse. “I want more from you. I want everything.”_
> 
> _Logan brushes gently against the entrance to his body--_

Nick’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. They’ve never had sex on a desk. In fact, their sex has been exclusively of the hand and blow job variety, and Nick has had zero problem being sexually fulfilled by this. The only thing he’s truly wished more for was for less hurried encounters. Perhaps ones wherein someone stayed the night. Perhaps ones wherein kisses were less brief and more intimate.

Nick has suspected what this has meant to Louis all along, but now here it is being shoved in his face, and he wonders when he got greedy. He’d told himself he just wanted Louis’ body and for Louis to have his in return, but along the way he’s began to want much more than that. No, now he’s begun to want a piece of Louis’ heart, something Louis has never offered him.

Here in black are the words that show that Nick is not Louis’ only muse. For weeks, the story of Logan and Mick has detailed their sex life, and now here is someone else’s staring back at him. He can feel the pressure begin to build up behind his eyes, and he knows he has very little time to pull himself together.

Louis arrives back at their table and tries to start a conversation of some sort, but Nick can only hear the rush of blood in his ears. He looks up and sees Louis watching him curiously. It’s too much. Nick has to get out of here.

“Excuse me. I’m feeling a bit--poorly. I--I’m just going to--” Nick stands up abruptly, sending his chair skittering back loudly. Before Louis can answer, Nick walks as quickly as his long strides will take him. He arrives quite breathless to his office floor and offers a thank you to the universe that no one is about and gone to lunch. He slips into his office and locks the door behind him. He slumps to the floor, his back against the door. His elbows rest atop his knees as his head hangs down between them.

He doesn’t realise tears have begun to fall until he hears the soft knock at the door. He knows it’s Louis. He tries to wipe his face with his sleeve and pretend to be unaffected.

“Yes?” He croaks out.

“Can I come in?” Louis asks through the door.

Nick nods even though no one can see it. He stands up and wipes his eyes before unlocking the door. As it swings open, Nick scrambles to sit in his chair, but he can’t bring himself to look at Louis.

He stares down at his own hands. These hands have touched Louis’ body and held him as he comes. They’ve touched Louis with more than just lust or infatuation, but it’s all been as ephemeral as a cloud, slipping through his fingers. It’s never been something that Nick could get ahold of and keep for himself. And whilst it’s always been a lovely dream, he knew it would end someday. He wonders for one brief moment if it could be worth it to keep Louis even if he isn’t Louis’ only. He wants to say yes, but his heart, his treacherous heart, says no.

“Nick? Are you alright?” Louis sounds alarmed as he walks quickly to Nick’s side and slides to his knees to take Nick’s hands in his own. “What’s wrong? Please tell me. Nick, is there anything I can do? Have I done something or are you really just poorly? Please don’t cry, I--”

“No. I’m just--sorry. I--don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Louis stills. “Do what anymore?”

“This. Us. Whatever it is that’s between us. I don’t think--”

“Oh.” Louis recoils from Nick as though he’s been shot through with an arrow. He releases Nick’s hands and backs up so quickly he hits the wall. He stares at Nick for a few horrendous moments. “Right. Okay. I’ll just--I’ll go then.”

The pain that echoes through Nick’s heart seems to reflect back at him on Louis’ face. It confuses him for a moment, that he perhaps has something wrong here. Louis turns around quickly and fumbles with the door as though he can’t get out fast enough.

Even though there should be more to say, Nick lets him go.

///

Nick doesn’t go home after work. He walks down Charing Cross and past Trafalgar Square. He isn’t sure where he’s going until he reaches the river and begins walking out across the bridge. He wraps his scarf once more around his neck to keep out the November chill. He leans against the railing, huddling into his coat, and looks out over the water.

If he and Louis had had something real, Nick would have taken him for a walk across this bridge. He watches the London Eye on its ever rotating axis and thinks that even though he’s never had the urge to ride it with every tourist in the city, he thinks he would have liked to have ridden it with Louis. He would have liked to have taken him to the cinema and shared popcorn. He would have liked to have taken him to dinner and to the theatre. He would have liked for Louis to spend the night in his bed and wake up to him in the morning. He would have liked to have made love to him then, drowsy and lovely. He would have liked to have seen what his mum thought of him.

Could any of this have been possible? If Nick had just spoken up and asked for what he wanted, could it have been as real as he wanted it to be? Maybe he should find out. He _has_ to find out. He doesn’t think he can live without knowing if any of this could have been possible. If any of it still _is_ possible. He’s on his way to Louis before he can overthink it.

When he buzzes, a flat voice answers to come up without asking who it is. Louis answers the door with a few tenners in his hand. He looks quite startled to see Nick at his door. “Oh. I thought it was the pizza.”

“No, sorry. Not the pizza, I’m afraid.” Louis backs up into the flat, letting Nick at least cross the doorway.

“I see that.” Louis crosses his arms. It looks like he’s holding himself together, as though if he let go he might break apart.

Did Nick do this? He searches Louis’ face for a moment, taking in the red rimmed eyes and lips pulled tight in a line. “Louis, I need to talk to you about a few things. Things I should have talked to you about before now. First of all, I’m sorry for running out on you at lunch. It’s just--I have a few confessions to make. I need to tell you a few things so that you can either tell me I’m a fool or--”

Nick pauses, but Louis’ eyes study the floor at his feet. Nick wishes he would at least look at him.

“I’ve been reading your writing every time you leave it with me,” Nick says, his voice soft with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have.”

Louis finally looks up at him, confusion written across his face. “My writing isn’t a secret from you, Nick. What are you talking about?”

Nick isn’t sure what reaction he thought he’d receive from Louis, but Louis looks as though he doesn’t understand the implication. “I realized a while ago that you were writing about us. Logan and Mick. They’re us. Or at least I thought they were.”

“Oh.” Louis finally says. Nick can see him grip more tightly around himself. “Well, if you’re worried about that, I won’t--”

Nick soothes his fingers on the hem of his shirt, trying to stem his nerves “No. Wait. Let me finish. Today’s writing _wasn’t_ about us, and I thought--are you--you must be--”

Nick trails off, unable to ask the question he needs to.

“What?” Louis looks genuinely mystified.

Nick will have to spell it out for him. It hurts just to say the words even though he doesn’t have the right to his feelings. They’ve never discussed their relationship or whatever it is that has gone on between them. They’ve certainly never had a talk about exclusivity.

“You must be with someone else besides just me.” He tries to make his tone neutral. He’s not here to accuse Louis. He’s here to see if there is any possibility they could be something more to one another. But instead, his voice betrays him. It’s not accusing, but instead vulnerable and desperate.

Louis looks pained. “Oh, Nick, I--”

Nick holds up a hand to stop him. “I’m so sorry, Lou. When this began, I thought any part of you would be better than none at all, but I seem to have given away pieces of myself to you. Little by little I’ve been giving away all the pieces of my heart, and I never told you. But I’m telling you now. And I know we haven’t been exclusive, but I want us to be. I mean, if you want that, too.”

Anguish shimmers in unshed tears of blue in Louis’ eyes. Nick holds his breath as he waits.

“Oh, love, I’m sorry, too,” Louis says with a watery smile as his arms fall to his side. “ How could you think there was anyone but you? If you’ve been reading all along, then surely you realise that I’ve been writing about you long before I ever gathered the courage to finally speak to you.”

Nick stills. “Wait. What?”

“Yes, I write about us.” Louis continues, speaking quickly, his hands now emphasising his expressions as he’s wont to do. “But I also write my fantasies about us. I always have. That’s how it all started. What was there today was just a fantasy I’ve had ever since you first brought me to your office.”

“So you’re not--having sex with anyone else?” Nick’s voice sounds small amidst the thick emotion in the room.

“God, no.” Louis closes the distance between them and takes Nick’s hands in his own. “Fuck, I’m so dumb. Can’t believe that’s what you thought. I guess I have a confession of my own to make.”

Louis pushes a hand through his hair. “I thought you might be reading my writing. I thought--maybe it could tell you what I was having such a hard time saying. That I wanted more with you. I wasn’t sure if you thought what he had--have--is just sexual, but I don’t want it to be. I was afraid to ask for more than what you’ve already given me.”

Nick tries to gather his thoughts enough to respond, but Louis continues before he can.

“Please, Nick. I want us to be together however you want. I don’t want this to be over. If you were to read Mick and Logan’s full story, you maybe would have understood. Nick, their story--it’s a love story.” Louis voice catches. “When I write about us, I pretend we’re falling in love.”

Nick lunges for him, knocking Louis to the sofa, pressing his lips to every inch of Louis that’s exposed. “We’re both complete knobheads. You don’t have to pretend we’re falling in love, Lou. We _are_ falling in love.”

Nick kisses Louis the way he’s wanted to from the very start and every day since. He kisses him knowing it’s just the beginning of their love story.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos and/or comments if you liked it! Also, here is the [tumblr post for this fic](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/167942759126/do-you-smile-to-tempt-a-lover-written-by) if you would like to do me a huge favor and reblog it! <3 <3
> 
> Original prompt: You've been typing furiously on your laptop in the library, and have just gone to get a book, so I had a quick look and you're writing hardcore gay porn and it's GOOD.
> 
> Louis the writer borrowed a few (but not all) passages from two fics that I wrote. So if somehow some of them seem familiar, I promise I have only plagiarized myself. lol. Some of "Louis'" writing came from my Tomlinshaw fic [but tonight (you're on my mind)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8115730/chapters/18602149) and this Larry WIP fic [And I Could Hear the Thunder.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11464305/chapters/25702827)


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